The Beauty of Luna
by HP-Forever-XX
Summary: Entry for Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition Season 2, Round 9 - "She was set apart from the rest of the world. Nobody understood her, and nobody needed to. She was Luna, I was Neville, and I loved her more than I thought humanly possible." Now living together, Neville is fascinated and enchanted by Luna's unique way of life, falling deeper in love with each new quirk. N's POV


**Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition Season 2 – Round 9**

**Team: **Holyhead Harpies  
**Position: **Captain  
**Task: **Write about a chosen pairing in a slice-of-life situation (Neville/Luna)

_**Author's Note: **I just wanted to apologise if this entry isn't particularly imaginative or if I perhaps didn't understand the task very well. I was in Africa for two weeks and only saw the round requirements when I got back, meaning I had only 48 hours to read the round and then write my entry. I'm not making excuses, I just wanted to express that slice-of-life isn't something I've written before, so I wanted to apologise in advance if I've misunderstood the requirements. I hope you enjoy it anyway! :)_

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**The Beauty of Luna**

I was surprised when I opened the door to find it was she that stood on the doorstep. She was surprisingly early. "Luna?" The surprise was clearly etched in my voice and I quickly felt embarrassed, like I was somehow upset that she was there, and after two weeks of living together, almost unhappy at her presence in her own house.

She would have looked dazed to a stranger, maybe even confused, but to me she looked as beautifully mystical as she always did. That was the beauty of Luna. She adopted a near constant dream-like state of being, childishly delighted by her surroundings, and forever lost in her own enchanting world. Even for a witch, a woman of magic in an impossibly magical world, she was so different, so alienated.

But that was why I loved her, and why I had always loved her. She enchanted me without the use of any magic other than her own marvellous being. She was set apart from the rest of the world. Nobody understood her, and nobody needed to. She was Luna, I was Neville, and I loved her more than I thought humanly possible. Not a day would pass when I was not fascinated by her way of life.

And now, I realised with a jolt of happiness, my life had been entwined with hers on a more permanent basis. I was still adjusting to her way of life, but it was a part of mine now, and I couldn't have been more thrilled.

I revelled in the simple pleasures of observing her behaviour, her perception of her surroundings, her reactions to different tasks. Every day I observed something new: The way she gently hummed the Hogwarts school song as she brushed her teeth, the way she sat and talked to the sun before breakfast as though it was capable of conversing with her, the way she left and re-entered the house, only to leave it once more in order to gain luck as she went to work, and most absurdly, the way she span around precisely 17 times brandishing a smoking sprig of mistletoe to ward off wrackspurt before she went to bed. And the nargle cleansing rituals were another thing altogether...

Anybody else would have been troubled by her behaviour, and concerned for her mental wellbeing, even in a world filled with such bizarre, supernatural things. Others did not understand her, and wouldn't have given even a second to appreciate her wacky habits and truly comprehend the beauty of Luna. It was true that I did not understand her, not even in the slightest. But I understood very forcefully how captivated I was by her, and my desire to appreciate and share her unique way of life, far outweighed any worries or concern I may have had for choosing to love such an extraordinary girl.

Not that it had been a choice at all, loving her. It had been a choice to unite our lives though, and a decision that after two weeks, I was happily settled into, yet gently surprised with each new discovery.

Having become familiar with the routine way in which she left and returned for work, it was certainly surprising to find her on the doorstep at least two hours earlier than her usual return to our homestead. Each day I greeted her at the same time, in the same way, waiting patiently (though also regretfully) for the day when the summer would be over and I would return to my job as a Hogwarts professor.

Just as normal, she stood before me with wide, grey eyes that drifted around her surroundings like she was in some kind of trance. Her hair freely fell over one shoulder in long waves of soft blondness, all the way down to her waist, her wand carefully tucked behind one ear. I was pleased to see the radish earrings that dangled from her earlobes – the very same ones she'd often worn at school. The ones she had been wearing the day we met, the day we first kissed, and the day I'd asked her to move in with me.

"They sent me home," she explained in that soft, dreamy voice, so soothing and so gentle that it seemed to flow over me like water. I would never tire of hearing it.

"Why?" I asked bemusedly, wondering whether I should have been amused or concerned.

"It's Wednesday," she said absent-mindedly, her eyes falling on mine. "I don't work on Wednesdays."

And so she didn't. A fact I (and clearly she) had forgotten. Unsure of whether it was appropriate to laugh at her endearing mistake, I struggled to suppress my amusement. It was only when the smile stretched across her face, and even her eyes lit up with merriment, that I relaxed into the laughter, her twinkly laugh echoing alongside mine.

"But you've been out all day," I realised abruptly. I didn't want to sound protective, or controlling in any way, but the involuntary sensation of worry had washed over me. If she had not been working and she had not been at home, then where exactly had she been?

"The river," she said, eerily answering the question I was certain I'd only asked internally. "The plimpies are very active on Wednesdays."

And I left it at that, falling in love with her all over again, if that was even possible.

The radishes swung comically as she floated into the house, the same child-like look of awe on her face. She saw the beauty in the world in the same way that I saw the beauty in her nature. She looked so delicate, so fragile, that I closed the door gently so as not to startle her, or disturb the wide-eyed doe-like expression she adorned.

Placing a gentle hand on her back so that I didn't startle her, she felt the warmth of my fingers and turned to meet my gaze, which I was certain must have been nothing short of full of love for her. Her face softened, her smile broke out, and her eyes twinkled. And I knew I was so unbelievably happy to have her in my life.

Lazy, relaxing days with Luna were always unpredictable, full of bizarre yet exciting things. Mundane and often boring tasks became full of excitement: Cooking, cleaning, gardening – never a dull moment with Luna. Each came with a song, a fantastical ritual of some sort.

And as I lay in bed that evening, watching with both affection and humour, as she span around before me precisely 17 times, brandishing a smoking sprig of mistletoe in order to ward off wrackspurt, I was helpless in the realisation that life before Luna had been tedious and dreary, and shocked that I could ever have been happy without her.

My eyelids were heavy and I drifted off to sleep, entering a world of dreams that could never hope to contend with the truly beautiful, magical, and euphoric life I shared with the truly beautiful, magical, and euphoric girl that was Luna.


End file.
